


Desert Hazards

by QueenAnnoyance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura and Lance are Siblings, City Boy Lance, F/M, Keith is in love, M/M, Neighbors, Protective Allura, SO GAY, Shenanigans, Summer Love, keith is gay, lance is pretty, mechanic keith, moving in, sappy Keith, small dessert town
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-30 02:56:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14487288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenAnnoyance/pseuds/QueenAnnoyance
Summary: Keith never thought he would find somebody that is the embodiment of warmth, but here Lance is, moving into the house across from his.Lance feels caged in some middle of nowhere desert town, but maybe Keith can convince him that starry skies are better then city lights.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I speak spanish but idk how to spell so please forgive any mistakes  
> mi'amor (my love) is written this way because the it is said by Mariana is as if it's once fluid word.  
> Pesas muy mucho (you weigh too much)  
> El Jefe (the boss) is lance's and allura's beloved mix breed dog

There was a thick sweltering heat in the air, the kind that stuck to the walls of your lungs and made you cough up dust. Wiping his brow of the thin layer of precipitation, Lance unloaded another box labeled “Dishes” in all caps and placed it on the drive way of the neglected house. Damn thing looked one good breeze away from collapsing. His step father knelt, placing all the weight on his knees as he lifted another box and began his track back inside, his white hair pulled back in a messy pony tail, strands sticking to the sweat on his neck. 

“Better hurry unloading this truck. Allura is on her way with another load.” He glanced back at Lance, a smile deepening his smile lines and crows feet. 

With a huff, Lance turned back to the moving truck, his arms felt weightless with fatigue at this point and doubted he would be much use when Allura arrived. Off in the distance, faint ringing of bells sounded from a church, the only one in the town—hell, probably the only one in the whole valley. Finishing rolling up the sleeves of his blue button-up, Lance checked his watch. Mid-Day. The heat was at its peak and clawing from the black asphalt through the soles of Lance’s converse, once a navy blue now faded to a pastel. 

A gentle rumble and screeching brakes brought his attention to the road, the image of the grey mini van wavered in the heats mirage, but even just a grey spot in distance Lance identified Allura in the driver’s seat. Lance and Allura were related in every way but blood. Lance was just a bundle in blue blankets, a mess of babbles and gurgles when his father split. His parents were high school sweet hearts. His mother had her first child senior year, only seventeen, never finished school, but never regretted little Mateo. When his father graduated he took up carpentry work, then came the twins, a boy and girl they thought, until the twins turned 16 and Nicolas legally changed her name to Benita. Admittedly, Lance was an accident, a happy little accident. His sibling were just starting college when he was born, his mother, Mirana, was 37. A week after Lance was born, the divorce papers were signed and his father left. Too young to notice the absence of an estranged father, Lance never needed anthing. He was too spoiled by his older siblings if anything. The twins took up extra shifts to support their single mother, Jessica working overtime as a waitress at a local diner and Benita in their aunt’s garden nursery. Mateo pitched in where he could. 

Pearly whites gleamed, Lance’s face spread in a huge smile as he waved to the car, Allura sported an identical grin. Allura parked in the side of the row, his mother in the passenger seat tugging El Jefe as he wiggled excitedly in her lap. The minute Allura opened the car door, El Jefe was merely a blur of grey and white, sprinting full speed into Lance’s arms. 

“Pesas muy mucho—!” Lance tried to calm the jittery oversized beast, but his smile never once faded, even when his mother’s face scrunched up in disgust as a slobber covered Lance hugged her and Allura. Lance towered over his mother at a full foot, she was a petite wman, but only had a couple of inches on Allura, not that he ever mentioned that to her unless he had a death wish. 

The family sat on unopened boxes of clothes stationed in the middle of the kitchen, sweet tea and Coca Cola in hand. The house, despite the smell of paint and the constant movement of people, had a still atmosphere, peaceful and inviting in the way that only a home could feel like. 

“Aye, mi’amor,” Marina sighed and glanced at Alfor, “you boys aren’t even half way done. Have you even done anything?”

Alfor choked on his drink. 

When Lance was four and Allura was 5, their parents went on their first date. Alfor had lost his beloved wife when Allura was born, diving head first into his work as the company’s CEO, humor and energy swallowed up by grief. Alfor and Marina both had been dropping their kids off at the local day care every morning for three years. It started with small talk then longing glances. Much to the kids’ distained, they would arrive at the day care thirty minutes early just to share a conversation before work. Mirana, finally fed up and irritated, asked Alfor out on a date. It was a disaster. A romantic picnic at Central Park took a turn for the worse when a hoard of birds bullied them to hand over half their food and the clear skies were invaded with menacing clouds heavy with rain water. When they arrived at Alfor’s apartment they were drenched head to toe. They had a second date. 

Alfor dragging his words and faked being faint, “But I’ve worked so hard- done everything to please you- what more could you want for me, woman?” Marina pushed him off his seat.

“This family is in shambles.” Lance took a drink from his cola, ignoring Allura when she rolled her eyes. 

“I see you’ve inherited our dad’s dramatics.” 

“And you our mom’s sass.”

When Alfor and Marnia got engaged and moved in together, Lance and Allura were anything short of sworn enemies. Never had anyone seen such deep hatred exhibited in children. There was hair pulling, loud pitched screeching, and tiny hands clenched into fists, everything became a compition. It wasn’t until they started school when Allura would be picked on for her white hair and Lance was secluded by the other kids for his accented words that they grew inseparable. They became tiny partners in crime. If someone didn’t know better, they’d guess they were blood related. Alfor’s exaggerated humor rubbed off on Lance while Allura took pride in her quick wit that she picked up from Marina. 

Once the sugar rush kicked in, Allura dragged a groaning Lance back outside to finish unloading the rest of the boxes from the truck. 

_________  
Keith was living with his friend at his place. When he dropped out of college, Shiro had offered to house him until he got his life together. Two years later and a position of mechanic at the local auto shop, Keith has progressed from couch crashing freeloader to roommate. Currently he laid on his bed, hunched over a laptop with a stylist in hand, precise lines appearing on the screen, slowly sketching the frame of a face. 

“Hey, Keith?” Keith made a noise of acknowledgement and took his headphones off, lifting his head to stare at the Shiro who was leaning in the doorway. 

“The neighbors are finally moving in,” he motioned his head to Keith’s window, “want to go lend a hand? It’ll be a chance to introduce ourselves.”

Keith turned his head to face the window. The row houses had brown lawns as a result from drought water restrictions. They had a clear view of mountain and hills off into the distance surrounding the town after miles upon miles of valley plains. The sun was at its highest, shrubs moved slightly from the breeze, the type of breeze, Keith guessed, that felt like the heat one feels after opening an oven. The house right across from them, the one that had been empty due to the lack of people looking for a home in the middle of nowhere, had a moving truck and grey mini van stacked to the nines with boxes. Two people, fairly tall, appeared in the doorway of the house, a young woman dragging a reluctant man behind her. They both had deep sun kissed skin and long limbs, Keith figured they were siblings. His eyes zeroed in on the boy in particular, scanning what he could of his features. He had trouble swallowing.  
“Sure.”

_________

It was hard hauling boxes in their new home with El Jefe weaving between their legs. Allura laughed each time Lance stubbled over the dog, who insisted on nipping at the corner of the boxes. 

“Allura, please-,” he fumbled with the box, “-can you get the leash? It’s inside on the table.”

“Fine you big baby.” Setting down a bag of clothing, Allura went to retrieve the leash while Lance waited with the box in hand. It had some of his mother’s fine china and he wasn’t gonna risk her wrath if he dropped it because Jefe couldn’t chill out. 

“Hey buddy.” A man, taller that he was and pale, leaned over to scratch at Jefe’s ears. Lance couldn’t help but notice how built he was, dude could probably bench press him without trying, but any intimidation that could have come from his physic was snuffed out by the man’s soft smile and kind eyes, gentle hooded grey eyes. Besides him was an even paler man with forming dark circles under his dowcast eyes, hair pulled back in a lose bun. He was shorter than himself, but not by much.  
“Sorry, I can’t resist a dog,” he huffed a laugh and extended his right hand, “I’m Takashi Shirogane, but people call me Shiro. I live in the house right across from yours.”

“I’m Lance Kingsly,” quickly shifting the box to rest on his hip like one would carry a toddler. Lance shook Shiro’s hand, the prosthetic was cool to the touch. Turning his attention to the other man, Lance curiously raised an eyebrow.  
“Keith.” ‘Keith’ muttered, voice slightly gruff, and extended his own hand. “Kogane.”

Keith’s hands were calloused with various cuts and scrapes on them, clearly strong and capable. It reminded Lance of Hunk’s hands, a dear friend of his who always had his hands in a new engine he was inventing. When he finally met his eyes, Lance was almost taken aback. They were blue, but a shade he had only seen watching old Hollywood movies featuring Elizabeth Taylor. Blue eyes, almost violet. 

Mr. Moody averted his gaze and practically yanked back his hand and stuffed them back into his pocket, “Do you need help or something-” 

“We noticed you have quite a bit to unload still and with this heat, we thought we should help,” Shiro cast a nervous glance at Lance, who frowned slightly at Keith’s standoffish nature, and rubbed at the back of his neck with the prosthetic.

“Um- yeah, Shiro, we could definitely use the help or we’ll never finish today.”

________

Allura and his parents were delighted in the help. Allura maybe a bit too delighted. Lance noticed the way she starred at Shiro when he hauled multiple boxes to the living room, muscles straining against the thin shirt. When Shiro wasn’t looking, Lance would wiggle his brows suggestively at her, only to have her pushed another box into his face for him to carry. 

Shiro’s friend, despite his slightly rude introduction, was something else. When they all finished taking all the boxes inside, they occupied themselves by unpacking. Allura had hauled Shiro off inside for some sweet tea, leaving Lance and Keith awkwardly standing in the driveway. The sun had started to set, the temperature finally started to lower, the now cool breeze felt good against their heated skin. Keith stared at lance, taking in everything about him. The artist in him begged his fingers to memorize every feature. Lance was staring at the sunset, the way the mountains framed the setting sun, the way the clouds were tinted with purples and pinks against red and orange hues of the sky. But Keith- Keith was looking at lance, really looking. Blue eyes, the shade of blue that was usually associated with despondency seemed like a completely different shade in the way Lance’s bright personality lit them up from the inside. Sharp cheekbones were dusted in a darker earthier tone than the rest of his face, flushed from spending the day out in the sun. Sun marks were freckled across his cheeks and up turned nose, the bridge and browbone of his nose caught the bright orange hues of the sunset. He was everything warmth was. 

Right then and there, Keith knew he was done for, ‘I’m so fucked.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ill probably post every other day but dont expect long ass chapters  
> i am a suffering college student pls dont be mad at me

The problem with obsessive thoughts is that they don’t immediately consume you every minute of every day. They’re gradual, creeping into the dark nooks and crannies of you mind and infect you, spreading like a disease. Before you know, it’s all you can think about. See, Lance didn’t think much about the way the small things in his life would change but laying there in the living room and staring at the ceiling, thinking about home and Keith. After Shiro and Keith had gone home, Lance and his family had decided to have sleep over in the living room since the paint in the bedrooms still had yet to dry, gathering up the mattresses and pillows and blankets, they decided to have a movie night. Alfor had dug through the boxes and projected Jaws onto the living room walls with an old projector that had taken an eternity to find. Now, with everyone sleeping, Lance couldn’t help but notice how… quiet it was. 

When his mom and dad decided to move to this small town in the middle of nowhere for Alfor’s job, Lance and his sister supported them, probably with the hope of an adventure. Lance scoffed quietly, rolling onto his side and staring at the window. It was dark, way darker than New York has ever been. He never realized the night could be so absolute, it was the type of dark that he had never experienced before. There were no huge neon lights, or flashes of light that traveled across walls from moving cars. The small town had lamp posts, sparsely spaced, but they were nothing against New York City lights. The lack of light and smog pollution gave way to a clear sheet of stars, but instead of keeping the veiled night at bay, it only intensified it. Closing his eyes, he took in the sound of silence. There was no chatter or yelling drunks from the bars, nor the sound of car horns expressing the irritation of their drivers. No traffic. Lance’s heart seemed to clench with new weight, home sickness settling deep in his chest. Even the people were different, though, not in a bad way  
And just like that his mind shifted from home to Keith. Back in New York, Lance hardly saw their neighbors and never exchanged words. But here? Here friendly neighbors Shiro and Keith had offered helping that. They only exchanged a couple of words, small talk, really. The usual ‘where you from’ and weather talk. Lance had learned quickly that Keith wasn’t much of a chatter box, but that was fine, Lance talked enough for the both of them. 

“Lance what’s wrong?” Allura’s voice jolted Lance away from his thoughts. It was sleepy and muttered. When Lance didn’t respond, he felt Allura scoot close, tucking herself under Lance’s blanket and simply waited there quietly for Lance to talk. 

“Allura…,” he rolled onto his other side to face Allura, “do you like it here?”

Allura let out long pensive sigh and traced patterens on the matteress with her fingers. “It’s- I guess it’s- It’s just different. A bit empty, sure, but I don’t think its that bad here.” Even with a lack of light, Lance saw the soft private smile form on his sister’s lips. Despite his gloomy mood, he felt his own lips twitch in amusement.

“Of course you don’t think it bad here,” Lance poked at his sister who batted his and away, “ya know… Shiro seems to really like you.”

“Shut up, Lance.” 

“…”

“Do you really think he likes me?”

“Go to sleep, Allura.” Besides, Lance thought, he’d have to be stupid not to like you.

They laid like that, taking in each other’s silent comfort. Allura’s breath evened out and soon Lance followed too.  
\--  
“He probably thinks I’m socially inept, Shrio,” Keith chugged the last of his beer and slammed the bottle back onto the table, “I literally asked him if he had a dog while petting his dog. I had to backtrack and ask, like, if he had another dog or pet or something.”

“You are inept though.” rubbing his index finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose, Shiro kicked off his shoes before laying back on the couch.

Keith opened another bottle, “He’s just so darn pretty.”

Shiro decided it was time to step in and take the bottle away form Keith. He shot Shiro a face of disbelief, mouth open in offense, but Shiro knew he would thank him later for having saved him a morning a killer hangover. 

“You could just talk to him gain.” 

“I could just jump off a cliff. It’s fine though. I know im being unreasonable, so I give it three days until this stupid puppy crush fades.” Keith retired to his room, wishing Shiro a goodnight.

It’ll fade... 

\--

It didn’t. It was Friday, a full five days since Lance moved in and Keith still harbored a boy-next-door crush on him. Keith look his helmet off, running his fingers through his hair and swung his leg over his cherry red Harley Davidson. It was early in the morning, early enough where there was light from the rising sun, but town hadn’t begun to heat up to the unbearable summer highs. 

He entered the auto shop that he has worked at for the past 2 years now. It was only him and John Carlson, the man who owned the place. Business was slow, but there were enough customers to keep the joint running. He opened the garage door manually, the electric motor on the thing had broken down and the part needed to fix it was apparently too costly for what is worth, according to Carlson. The only project Keith had at the moment was the 67 Mustang convertible that Old-Coot had paid to restore for his granddaughter by the time she turns 18 in a year. So far Keith has restored the motor and all that was left was to work on the interior and shell of the car before putting in the engine. 

Keith had been sanding the chipped paint away when he heard the chocking cackle of a car. He removed his mask and goggles to see a grey mini van park just outside the garage with a certain tall and tan man. Quickly, Keith whipped his hands n a nearby rag, only to make h=it worse by getting the oil on the rag all over his hands. Shit. 

“Keith?”  
He threw all fucks out the window, shifting his weight from one leg to the other nervously. 

“Yeah. You’re names’ Lance, right?” Keith asked, pretending to be unsure when in reality that name had been tacking laps around his mind for weeks. Had Lance gotten prettier? What kind of bull-

“-Shit, I mean yeah. Hold up one second, sorry it’s probably my sister.” Lance cursed when his phone dinged, struggling to take it out from his skinny jean pockets. Once retrieved, he typed out a quick message before turning his attention back to the grease covered man in front of him. What a look. 

“I didn’t know you worked here, man. Think you could help me out? The van has just given up on us, im surprised it made the track all the way here,” Lance fidgeted with his hair, the dried paint on his hands chipped off and tangled themselves among the brown locks. 

“’Course I can,” Keith frowned, “It’s kind of my job.”

Lance’s cheeks flushed.

“It might take a while to diagnose the problem though.”

“That’s fine, ima go get some coffee by the shop down the street. Do you want anything.”

With a shake of Keith’s head and an exchange of awkward smiles, Lance started his short walk down the road. He pulled out his phone and reopened his messages. 

Princess- [image received]

Princess- Who in the actual fuck does he think he is

Lancelot- A chiseled god obvi

Allura had sent him a rather stalkerish candid photo of Shiro outside his house in the middle of doing stretches, the picture taken from an upstairs bedroom, the one they both had been in the middle of painting when their mom told them to go get the car fixed. Admittedly, seeing a picture of a shirtless Shiro with abs out in all their glory was awkward and of no help when he was trying to take to said ab master’s friend.

Lance ordered his usual and a plain coffee for Keith, taking separate sugars and creamer for Keith to add to his liking. The walk back was a long one. Lance had decided that, damn, he wanted a piece of that emo mullet. 

So you know, coffee plus his signature smooth flirting skills. ‘What if Keith is straight?’ Lance scoffed at his own thoughts, the dude leaked Gay. 

What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> famous last words


End file.
